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<title>⊓shelter by sonshineandshowers</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888668">⊓shelter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers'>sonshineandshowers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-ep 1x20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:49:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,242</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888668</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonshineandshowers/pseuds/sonshineandshowers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 1x20, Malcolm goes to see Gil.</p><p>SPOILERS FOR 1x20.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>⊓shelter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Malcolm’s shoes thudded on the walk to Gil’s hospital room in a clop toward execution. Every impact reverberated off the walls, the floors, jolted up his legs in a shooting pain to his brain. He walked through the doorway to Gil smiling at him.</p><p>“Two weeks! I’ve had that car two weeks and your mother crashed it already!” Gil jokingly complained.</p><p>“Saved his life,” Jessica added, turning around on the bed with an equally wide smile.</p><p>Both of them stopped their teasing as soon as they saw Malcolm’s face.</p><p>“Kid…” Gil broke the silence first.</p><p>Malcolm bit his lip and looked at the wall instead of either of them.</p><p>“Malcolm,” Jessica’s concern flooded her voice and she stood to put an arm around his back. </p><p>A motion repeated so many times, yet this time it was the last before she knew. Before —</p><p>“Gil’s gonna be fine. What is it?” She held his chin with her fingertips.</p><p>Tears blurred his vision, and he curled both of his lips into his teeth to hold them back. Instead of bringing him closer to Gil, she lowered him into a chair, kneeling in front of him.</p><p>Malcolm held his thumb and forefinger at the bridge of his nose as if he could force back all the pressure that had burst out all over his mother’s living room floor. <em>So Mom, you've got a freshly decorated interior. A bit Pollock.</em> “It-it’s Ainsley,” he shared, flexing and extending his fingers.</p><p>“I talked to her after we got here,” Jessica indicated. “She should’ve been on the way by now — “</p><p>“Mom — Endicott threatened her, all of us. She—she snapped.” His hands grabbed at his head, trying to translate clinical words into something she’d understand, yet losing them with everything else he had lost that night. “She killed him.”</p><p>“What?” Jessica exclaimed, her mouth dropping and brow crinkling.</p><p>Malcolm rested his hands on her shoulders. “She—she doesn’t remember it. JT and Dani brought her in — “</p><p>“And you didn’t protect her?” she scoffed, shrinking away from his hands. “There’s no way — “</p><p>“I watched it,” Malcolm said firmly, the undercurrent of held back tears still in his voice.</p><p>Jessica met his eyes, demanding answers that only his mother had the ability to pull out of him. “How?”</p><p>Malcolm looked at the floor. “Sliced his throat.” Then ventured a glance back to her.</p><p>Jessica’s hand covered her mouth, horror appearing in her eyes that he imagined was even worse than hearing about his father. He scrambled out of the chair, guiding his mother into it before she could tip to the floor. He pulled the small trash can over just in time for her to be sick into it. “No,” she whispered.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m so sorry.” He rubbed her back and pulled her into a hug she had attempted so many times in calming him. Only this time, he was the initiator, and he never wanted to let her go, didn’t want her to have to face the reality of a world where Ainsley was a murderer. She’d experienced enough pain for one lifetime. It was his turn to try to shelter her.</p>
<hr/><p>Gil couldn’t protect every Whitly at once. He’d gotten Malcolm to leave. Jessica had flown the coop, and he had the stitches to prove Endicott had done his darnedest to kill him. Ainsley — what the fuck had happened?</p><p>Gil reached for the side table, his phone uncomfortably out of reach. His torso reminded him the whole way it was an action he should not be taking, but he managed to grab it. Pressed a contact and waited for a response.</p><p>“Gil?” Dani’s confused voice came over the line.</p><p>“Hi.” Gil looked to his family around the chair where they were still focused only on each other.</p><p>“You’re okay?”</p><p>“Yeah. Tell me about Ainsley,” he got straight to the point, not having energy for much else.</p><p>“Malcolm pulled a gun on Endicott in the living room. Didn’t shoot. Ainsley slit his throat.” Formulaic. Like it was any other case. Not Malcolm’s sister.</p><p>“Malcolm — “</p><p>“Didn’t do anything. She was covered. DOA.” Gil’s mind gave him visions of <em>Carrie</em> mixed with The Surgeon’s smile.</p><p>“Is she — “</p><p>“She’s safe. Was evaluated by medical.”</p><p>He looked across the room, finding Jessica’s head resting on her son’s shoulder. He just wanted to hold both of them — keep them all safe.</p><p>“Should you even be talking?” Dani asked, her voice concerned and critical.</p><p>“I’m fine — worry about them. You have JT with you?”</p><p>“Yeah — you wanna talk to him?” He heard the click of the phone onto speaker.</p><p>“You two look out for each other,” Gil gave a pep talk that didn’t have the familiarity of his office. “It’s gonna be a long week.”</p><p>“Make that a few, boss,” JT encouraged.</p><p>“Yeah, well — don’t take over my job,” he teased, but even he could hear his voice lacked its typical humor. “You two have got this.”</p><p>“Take care, Gil,” Dani said, and JT echoed, “Feel better, boss,” at the same time.</p><p>The call disconnected and Gil let the phone fall to the bed. “Kid?” he called quietly, hoping to get Malcolm’s attention but not Jessica’s.</p><p>Malcolm turned his head slightly, and Jessica’s head popped up at the movement. More failure.</p><p>“Come here, Jess,” Gil said, and she completed his request to sit near his shoulder, his arm resting against her waist. She buried her head next to him, Gil soothing, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>He didn’t care her body against him put pressure on a wound that should be healing. Didn’t care that every bit of his body hurt just laying down. Only cared about his family he couldn’t manage to shelter from the storm of Martin Whitly.</p><p>Gil gestured his fingers toward Malcolm, and Malcolm came to hug him on the opposite side of the bed. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Malcolm said, holding the side of his face in a gesture he hadn’t given since he was high.</p><p>“I’m sorry, kid.” Gil looked to Jessica, checking on her. “I tried.”</p><p>Malcolm shook his head. “It’s my fault.” He bit his lip and released it. “I couldn’t take the shot.”</p><p>“Shhh,” Gil soothed and pulled Malcolm in to take a seat on the little space left on the bed.</p><p>The three of them curled up together on Gil’s hospital accommodations, mirroring their time spent with Malcolm on a trip to the emergency room after he’d been unable to keep any food down for several days. Except this time, Gil was at the center due to a madman, Malcolm was fully grown, and there wasn’t a change in diet that could replace the gore in Jessica’s living room. They didn't fit, yet as he contemplated their togetherness over several minutes of silence, there was nowhere else he wanted them to be.</p><p>“You didn’t call for backup,” Malcolm accused quietly as a few of his tears released into Gil’s shoulder.</p><p>“You — “ Gil bit his tongue before <em>didn’t either</em> could roll off and chided himself for being insensitive. “I worried about you too.”</p><p>“She needs help.”</p><p>“We’ll figure it all out,” Gil promised, rubbing the back of Malcolm’s neck. “Just sit here a few more minutes.”</p><p>A jumble of family resting in a hospital bed. Short another member to the void of Martin Whitly. Hiding out from reality for just a few more minutes. Just a few more where Ainsley was still Ainsley, not The Surgeon’s murdering daughter.</p>
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  <em>fin</em>
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